The Queen is Not Happy

Two more days until the Big Trip to PA. And the queen is not happy.

I am 100% opposed to flying. It's not something I think I should do. Ever. And yet, I am putting myself, my children and SuperHubby on a smaller-than-I'd-like aircraft the day after tomorrow and calling it a "vacation." And I paid good money for this!

I am beside myself with worry. I have been hiding it well from my children. I have not been hiding it well from anyone else. Sadly, the adults in my life tend to taunt and tease rather than have compassion and understanding. Why are these people even my friends?

To make matters worse, I've had an incredibly wonderful week. Four friends of mine, several of which I haven't seen in a year or more, have all come to town and I've been able to spend time with them. Since I don't like people very much and don't have many friends as a result, having 4 come into town in the same week is like having 98% of my address book here.

Then SuperHubby's best friend calls tonight. How cool. They haven't talked in a really long time, so that was great. Plus I had a good day at work and my dad got moved into his apartment and life is good.

Which got me thinking....If everything is going so well, and everyone I've ever met is calling and stopping by to see me, we're probably looking at a plane crash at minimum. SuperHubby is not amused with my pessimistic attitude. I am not amused with SuperHubby's lack of concern for my all-too-real fear.

Ah, vacation. Sounds relaxing already.

Pokemon Problem

I have a problem with Pokemon. I just can't remember what it is.

Many, many years ago, in our quest to become Perfect Parents, SuperHubby and I decided we would ban all entertainment that seemed even remotely evil. Our list included any type of weaponry (specifically guns), Harry Potter, witches and ghosts and goblins (oh my!), and Pokemon.

Being Mom Extraordinaire, I did extensive research on Pokemon. It was banned immediately. MY CHILD would NOT be involved in such nonsense. I was, after all, protecting him from the evils of this world.

Shortly after the ban took place, my wonderful uncle began making SUPER COOL swords and guns for the children. So we lifted that ban. But we held firm to the others.

And yet, I cannot for the life of me recall why I squashed the Pokemon craze. Maybe because it was just so crazy. Maybe because I had nothing better to do that day. I don't know.

So now Spanky is wanting to watch Pokemon. He's been trained well. He knows if something is on the banned list, he must ask permission before watching. So now he asks every day if he can watch. And every day I say yes. But I have yet to lift the ban. Why?? I think I'm holding on to that one last little bit of control. The Perfect Parent Facade disappeared a long time ago.

Goodbye, Mr. Happy

My dog killed Mr. Happy. Needless to say, I am, in more ways than one, extremely un-happy about this recent turn of events.

This dog has more toys than imaginable. He has about 600 tennis balls and one gigantic piece of twisted rubber (we're not really sure what it's supposed to be). And yet, he feels compelled to play with/eat things that belong to his family. Specifically, me.

Now, I understand when he walks around with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle underwear in his mouth. I'm sure that somehow seems like a good idea to a dog. I can even understand when he carries stuffed animals around -- it's almost cute. Almost.

But a couple of days ago, Kane overstepped in a big way. He gnawed through the straps on a new leather backpack I bought for our trip to PA. Yes, that's right, a new bag that I hadn't even used yet...destroyed! And it was hanging on the back of a chair, so he had to work to get at it. But I decided to forgive him. He's not the brightest thing in the world.

Now he's gone too far. He attacked and mutilated Mr. Happy. It's a sad day in the Fitzgerald household.

Mr. Happy is a wooden thing that has a big round ball on one end and 3 smaller round balls extending from "legs" attached to the large round ball. The large ball has a face painted on it (hence the name Mr. Happy). You get them at Bath & Body Works. It's cute. And it feels great on your back.

So Kane decided that he needed to eat Mr. Happy. Spanky caught him in the act, but alas, it was too late to save my happy friend. I put him on the counter to dry off (Boxers slobber a lot, and Mr. Happy looked like he'd been swimming). Yesterday, I hear this tremendous noise coming from the back of the house, and discover Kane has taken Mr. Happy from the counter (a big no-no) and is tossing him into the air with great glee. What a stupid dog.

Adios, Mr. Happy. You will be missed.
Kane - you'd better watch your back.

I loathe summertime.
It's hot. We've had a recent heat wave where we've topped out at 6000 degrees daily for the past couple of weeks. I don't enjoy sweating. I like it even less when other people do it. It's just nasty.
Then there's the humidity. My hair cannot take this.
Summer clothes are cute, but the colors don't look great on me. I look much better in the fall. And after all, it is all about me.
Kids are out of school. That means they expect to be entertained 24 hours a day. And with the heat, I just don't have it in me.
Sadly, it is toasty warm here 300 days out of the year. No wonder I look like a giant poodle.

I Miss My Brother

If anyone quotes me on this, I'll deny it. But I miss my brother.

He's been gone 3 weeks now. He and his family had this awesome opportunity for the summer: they received a grant from the school where he teaches (history - yuck!) and they spent 4 weeks on a cross-country adventure in an RV. They have 3 children under age 11, so I'm not sure if they really thought this through, but I digress.

This trip is right up my brother's alley. He's such a history geek. I say that in a totally loving way. He knows it. My sister-in-law is also a teacher, so they have managed to see and do everything from Niagara Falls to a cowboy dinner to visiting our grandmother in TX (okay...I'm secretly jealous of that one!). All this to say, they were blessed with the opportunity of a lifetime this summer. What fantastic memories for their kids!

(If someone in their family were so inclined, she would make CREATIVE MEMORIES albums to chronicle their journey. She could find the items at www.creativememories.com/asalley).

Wait - that sounded like a commercial break. My bad.

As I said, my brother is a teacher. I'm not exactly sure when he teaches though, because during the school year, I email him throughout the day. Not a Monday-Friday goes by without us "chatting." Weekends and holidays, not so much, but when we're both at work, we're totally devoted.

And then he leaves for a month. What's up with that??? I've been having to read his trip log to keep up with what's going on in his life. The only good thing about that is that he writes like he talks, so it's like carrying on a conversation with him. Even when he's been in California or Wyoming, he's been close at heart, since I can imagine his every inflection and facial expression.

Still, I miss him. Rewind 25 years and I never would've guessed it. But I truly not only love my brother because I have to, I love him because he's one of my best friends. We neglect our friendship more than our non-family friendships, mostly because we have 5 kids between us and we know we will always be there, regardless of how much effort goes into that relationship. But I think he's a funny, interesting, although somewhat nerdy guy, good looking with a good-looking wife (we had an odd habit...we married clones of ourselves...so the good-looking comment had to be said), a great Dad and a great Christian. I like him.

There, I said it. And it didn't even hurt too much.

Batman: He's Not Super, Man

Being the mother of 2 little boys, I have great experience in the world of superheroes. Our house is full of Batman, Superman, Justice League - you name it, we've got it. I'm talking action figures, costumes, movies, coloring books. Way too much to explain. Suffice it to say, being the super-involved Queen Mommy that I am, I have made it my goal for the past 10 years to be able to carry on a reasonable conversation with my boys about the hero du jour.

But we have a little problem. His name is Batman. For the past 8 years, ever since Spanky realized it was a fun thing to argue with Queen Mommy, we have been engaged in the Battle of the Batman. I'm talking the Great Batman Debate. Our topic: Is Batman a superhero or not?

While Spanky is quite insistant that Batman is, indeed, a superhero (um, duh, he's in the Justice League), I maintain that he's just an eccentric rich guy with a plethora of odd habits and just as many wonderful toys {random movie reference - did anyone notice?}

Batman doesn't have x-ray vision. He has Bat-Goggles. He doesn't have the ability to fly; he has the Batplane and a Batcopter. Speed? Nah...he has the Batmobile and a Batbike. He doesn't even have supersonic hearing so he can tell when someone's in trouble; he has to rely on a really cheesy Bat Signal that EVERYONE can see. He throws little Batpellets that explode and make people pass out (whoopdee doo) and he uses Bathooks to climb walls and tie people up (again, I say, whoopdee doo). But no superpowers.

He's got great friends. I mean, the Justice Leaguers alone should be commended for allowing him into their ranks. He's a mere mortal, with no superpowers, and you've got Superman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Hawk Girl, Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter all with these incredibly cool powers...and bizarre stories of how they got them...just letting little Bruce Wayne join them for some crimefighting fun. And that doesn't take into account the new guys who are a part of Justice League Unlimited.

Don't get me wrong. I love Batman. I think he's cool and he's all about taking care of the bad guys, which is a great thing to see. I'm a little concerned about him though; he likes to dress up in tights and a little mask and cape and he hangs out under his mansion with ugly, nasty bats. I bet there's bat poop down there. I bet it stinks. Then again, he has a butler, so what does he care?

So The Great Bat Debate continues. I say Batman is just a man, with a little too much time on his hands, since he seems to be a master of everything he's ever done. Spanky says he's a superhero (although he has no grounds to prove it). I doubt we'll ever agree. It's much too fun this way.

It's official. I am changing my son's name.
This is something I have been seriously considering for some time now. He's only 7, so I don't think it will be too difficult to get him accustomed to a new moniker.
I'm not talking about his given name. Please. We don't call our children by their given names. No, I'm talking about his "Mommy name."
My older son is Spanky. I don't know why. I just came out one day and stuck. There are a lot of things like that in my life.
My younger son is Baby Boy. He sort of christened himself as such. Generally, he calls me, and I answer with "What, Baby?" That's all I can figure.
Like I said, he's 7. Probably time to stop calling him Baby. Just something I've been thinking. It would never occur to him not to love that name, but since he's going into 2nd grade in a couple of weeks, I've been thinking I should do him right in the nickname category.
I've decided that henceforth and forevermore, until I change my mind again, he will be called Kermit. As in the Frog.
I have my reasons. This kid is forever sitting on the floor, "puzzling." He puzzles all the time. Big puzzles. Hard puzzles. And he's amazing.
He puts puzzles together from the inside out. Sometimes he puts them together upside down. (By upside down, I mean with no picture showing. Freaky.)
This is a constant in our house. And when he puzzles, he doesn't sit like a normal kid. He sits with his feet flat on the floor, knees straight up to his chin. He looks like a frog.
And who's the coolest frog ever? Kermit.
My baby has a new name. Until my next mood swing.

I just realized that the countdown is on to the Big Vacation. For someone who has only left SC 4 times in her life, this is a huge deal. Of course, a trip to a different county is a huge deal.

So we now have 2 weeks before the PA trip. I'm talking up the plane trip to the boys, just in case I'm unable to speak when we actually board the plane. I haven't enjoyed flying in the past, and I have absolutely no intention of starting to enjoy it now.

SuperHubby says he's very excited. Hard to tell with him. SuperHubby has pretty much one facial expression. It covers just about every emotion. He's a low-maintenance kind of guy.

I'm excited about seeing family. SuperHubby is excited just to leave SC. This is not the only area we differ in, but that is definitely a topic for another day.

I haven't even made a list yet. Very surprising. Once I realized we were in the 2-week zone, I started mentally deciding what we would take. However, I would like to point out there is no written list to date. I don't anticipate it being that way long.

So 2 weeks from now, we will be well on our way. If we get over the stress of getting there, we should have a pretty relaxing vacation.

It's All Relative

My family is full of creative people. Yeah, not so much.

We aren't the most clever people when it comes to naming our children. It's gotten to a point where we now have to call people by their first AND last names, and sometimes tack on the "Jr" or "Sr" to boot! Pitiful.

My father is Larry. So is my brother. Jr & Sr. Their first name is David. My grandfather was David Luther. Right there we've used David 3 times and Larry twice. But it didn't stop there. My brother's oldest is David. And my oldest's middle name is David. Wow.

(Okay, right now people are noticing that my parents are cruel. Indeed, they named me and my brother Larry & Lori. And no, we're not twins. Embarrassing. But more on my name fate later.)

Back to the Larrys. My dad has a cousin. She married a Larry. So growing up we had Big Larry (dad), Little Larry (brother) and Fat Larry (cousin - aren't we a nice family?). But wait...there's more! My aunt decided to get married about 14 years ago...to a Larry. And his oldest son is a Jr. So we have 5 Larrys getting together every stinking holiday.

My grandmother is Mary. So is my niece. Plus 2 cousins (mother and daughter). I have an aunt and a cousin named Linda.

And then there's me. Lorene Hope. Yuck. Lorene is my grandmother's middle name. Hope is my mother's middle name. Could've been worse. Could've been Mary Myrtle. Stop laughing.

This is just my dad's side of the family. My mother's is just as bad, and everyone seems to have someone else's name. Did I mention we have a cousin named David? No? Well, it's hard to keep track of it all.

This is why my children don't have rhyming names and we don't have a Jr. Too confusing. We named both boys after men we loved and respected, but thankfully men we don't see once a month - so we can call our children by their names and no one is confused. Except the children. They haven't been called by their names since they were babies. Luckily we don't have any other Spankys or Baby Boys, so we're good.

80s Tunes I Crank Up and Belt Out

1. Jessie's Girl - Rick Springfield
2. Raspberry Beret - Prince
3. Walking on Sunshine - Katrina & the Waves
4. Tainted Love - Soft Cell
5. Patience - Guns -n- Roses
6. I Want to Know What Love Is - Foreigner
7. Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen
8. Super Freak - Rick James
9. Talking in Your Sleep - Romantics
10. You May Be Right - Billy Joel
11. Hit Me with Your Best Shot - Pat Benatar
12. I Can't Go for That - Hall & Oates
13. Love Shack - B52s
14. Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) - Eurythmics
15. I Love Rock & Roll - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts
16. Pour Some Sugar on Me - Def Leppard
17. Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns -n- Roses
18. Rock This Town - Stray Cats
19. You Spin Me Round (Like a Record) - Dead or Alive

So there you have it - probably not a complete list, but it makes a good dent in my faves from the 80s. When I'm in the car (or if I think I'm along), I'll sing at the top of my lungs and quite possibly dance some crazy Lori jig while reliving my teen years.

I am seriously considering getting rid of my toilet. I'm pretty sure no one in my house would notice.

It would save quite a bit of hassle. Every time I enter the room, I'm putting down the lid. Living with 3 boys, you learn pretty early on that if you don't do that, you're sitting in water at 3 a.m. And that ain't a lot of fun.

They only hit the bowl 50% of the time anyway. Why not just remove the toilet and let them pee directly onto the floor? Cut out a step.

Spanky tends to go outside if someone's already using the bathroom...for whatever purpose. He has absolutely no problem with going in the backyard. The neighbors, well......

Besides, it would remove the 13 year battle I've had with SuperHubby over the toilet paper roll. I believe it should roll from the top; he feels compelled to have it roll from the bottom (when he feels compelled to change the roll at all).

I need more storage in my bathroom anyway. If you're coming to visit, make sure you go before you leave home.

My son Spanky is a rising 5th grader. Over the summer, he has been assigned a fate worse than death: Mandatory Book Reports. Three of them. Surely they jest.

The school has provided an extensive list of books the students can choose for their book reports. There are some awesome books on this list. Treasure Island. James and the Giant Peach. The Indian in the Cupboard. Really good books.

There are also some strange titles on the list. Stinky for President. Captain Underpants. Odd things like that.

So the book report is this: read the book, then take a 3x5 index card, on which you write all the pertinent info about the book on the front, and a 5 sentence summary/opinion of the book on the back. That's it!!! What???!!!!!

Back in the day, when we were given book reports, they were something to whine about. I'm talking PAGE MINIMUMS. Sentence minimums??? Are you kidding me???

Spanky has been in here in between each sentence he's written. And he's not finished yet. Many tears have been shed. This is only the first of 3 for the summer.

It seems to me that while children these days are taught many wonderful things my generation missed out on, they are missing out on some of the junk from the good ole days before every classroom had computers and they were encouraged to race through life at breakneck speed.

Slow down. Stop and revel in the misery of a REAL book report. Be a kid.

Got a new purse this weekend. No big shocker there. The real surprise...it's pink. Not a little pink, but really pink, girlie pink.
This is a strange twist of events. I've been slowly coming around to pink, but more shocking pink than girlie pink. Holding on to that last bit of dignity.
I'm not a girlie girl. Haven't worn a dress since Easter 1998. Don't like frou-frou. No lace, no frills, no lipstick, nothing. And yet, I now own a very pink purse.
I love purses. I own several (only a slight understatement). I pride myself on having cool purses. Not your run-of-the-mill, can-find-them-anywhere, everyone's-carrying-it purses. But now I have a girlie pink purse.
I'm not sure what this means. I do know that I have been wanting this particular purse (although not necessarily in pink) for many years now. I find it odd that I have chosen my dream purse in such a feminine color.
Can lipstick be far behind?

My Favorite Things

If you're reading this blog, you probably already know me. Or at least you think you do. Or you've randomly come across this page and now you're thinking, "I've just gotta know more about this Lori chick." Whatever the reason for your intense nosiness, I present for those interested...a few of my favorite things (in no apparent order)...

1. sweet tea, shrimp and grits, fried chicken livers, boiled peanuts
2. charm bracelets
3. handwritten letters
4. purses, daytimers
5. gerber daisies, sunflowers
6. NYPD Blue, Forensic Files, Cold Case files, anything along those lines
7. blowing bubbles with my kids
8. backrubs
9. autumn
10. my job

Leavin' on a Jet Plane

We're going on vacation. While this may not sound like big news to most people, it's huge for us. For 4 years, we spent our vacations in MUSC with SuperHubby having brain surgery. Not the most relaxing way to spend your time off. We've gone 2 years without any trips to MUSC (I'm surprised they haven't called to check on us!), so now we're planning our first official family vacation.

Every year we go to a cabin close to home with my aunt and uncle and my brother and his family. It's a great vacation. We all really enjoy each other's company, all the kids get along great, we're far enough from civilization to not worry about traffic or pedophiles or anything, but close enough to get Moose Tracks when we run out. The price is right: we don't pay for the cabin, so we just have to bring food.

However, our little family of 4 has never been on an away-from-home vacation. Nothing more than a weekend trip here and there. And now we finally get to do it.

We're going to Pennsylvania. SuperHubby's brother and his family live there. Pocono Mountains. How cool is that? We're going for a week. Even better. We're all very excited.

I haven't even started packing yet. Don't even have a list. For anyone who knows me, this is craziness. I must have taken leave of my senses.

I'm more than a little nervous. Don't like flying. Spanky and Baby Boy have never flown. I was planning on loading up on valium to calm my nerves, but I realized that might not be the best way to go. I'm supposed to keep my children calm. Can't do that if I'm not calm myself. So my new plan is to fake it.

19 days and counting. The boys are beyond excited. I'm anxious but ready. SuperHubby doesn't show emotion, so there's just no telling. Even in the new experiences, things are surprisingly the same for the Fitz Family.

Beauty (and the Beast Within)

We have 2 dogs. Big dogs. Beautiful dogs. Boxers.

SuperHubby always wanted a Boxer. Boxers are great with kids. I'm a sucker for dogs. So three years ago, we made the bold step of acquiring one of these wonderful beings.

Layla is a gorgeous brindle, a silly girl, more than a little laid back. Okay, she's lazy. But she adores the boys and is very protective of all of us. She has always been, and will always be, Alpha dog in our house. She's also adorable...her tail was cropped to short, so when she's excited, her backside wiggles all the way to her shoulders.

Never ones to be content with any sense of simplicity, we acquired a second Boxer 6 months after Layla. Webber was a flashy red boy, so ugly he was adorable, with personality beyond measure. He stole my heart. He had issues (crate anxiety and excessive drooling were 2 of our favorites), but he was awesome. We lost Web to cancer after only 2 years. I miss him terribly.

Of course, Layla was devastated by the loss of her "child." She's always been very docile, while Web was the epitome of hyper. We found a new friend for her in Kane. Kane is a red boy with quite a bit of spunk, cropped ears that are crooked...and he looks like Elvis. Kane still acts like a puppy - even though he's 2 now - and has no idea that he's as big as he is (he thinks he's a lap dog).

We love our dogs. They have great personalities and they are gorgeous. But they stink. SuperHubby forgot to mention one little thing before we got them: Boxers are prone to excessive gas. I'm not talking your run-of-the-mill, oops-the-dog-farted farts, I'm talking peel-the wallpaper-farts. Silent-but-deadly whisper-biscuit farts. Semi-automatic-machine-gun-farts. There are times the flatulence is so great it sounds like some insane orchestra playing a rapid fire rendition of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame." Stinky dog farts.

I love these dogs. But they act like they don't smell the odor. They act like they didn't make the odor. Or maybe they just don't care. All I know is that we've kept at least 3 local candle stores in business for the last 3 years.

Thank goodness these guys are pretty. They sure don't smell very good.

Dude Looks Like a Lady
So I'm at the doctor's office yesterday, reading National Geographic, and I come across this article about coral reefs. Come to find out, there's this sea anemome which does something really bizarre...
See, the male of the anemone is garnet in color, and the female is a beautiful bright red. They apparently mate for life. When the female dies, the male actually becomes a female - just some crazy nature thing - and turns bright red instead of garnet! Then he goes off and mates with another male and the cycle starts again.
I find that very cool. Bizarre, but cool.

Clearly, I have no idea what I'm doing. I had to have help getting this far. I'm am electronically challenged. I just got a new flip phone. All I can do it make calls. There's a gazillion other things you can do on this dumb phone, I just can't figure them out. I recently purchased a digital camera. This was a big deal - I was waiting to see if the fad would pass. I have a 3-year-old DVD player that is still in plastic. I'm just not that into the latest gadgets and gizmos.
So why have I decided to become a blogger? Everyone in my office seems to be jumping on the bandwagon, and not wanting to be the last to join (I'm saving that honor for Doodles), I figured I'd give it a shot. Now that I've started, everyone else will probably stop.